Misadventures of Akale
by Eragonfan73
Summary: The reader follows Akale, grandson of the famed hero Roran Stronghammer as he goes through the trials and tribulations of becoming a dragonrider while training under the guidance of Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Brightscales. Light heterosexual shipping later on.
1. Prologue

**Hello, I am just a fan of _the Inheritance Cycle _who has decided to write the story of a rider from the next generation… of riders. The story takes place 45 years after the end of _Inheritance_, The main character is the eldest grand-son of Roran Stronghammer. I had to create some of the words from the ancient language that didn't exist (IE; dawn= daundr). I know some of you might be thinking nasty things about me using a blood relative of Eragon to tell my story, but please, no flaming. AND I AM NOT A MARY SUE. Feel free to comment and give me your opin****ion about the story as I write it.**

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Prologue

It has been 45 years since the end of the civil war between the Varden and Empire ended. Most of the heroes of that war have died or grown old beyond measure. True to their word, Eragon and Saphira have yet to return from their self-imposed exile. The Riders have returned to Alegaesia and have succeeded in maintaining the truce between the world's races. Now, if you would be so kind as to join me in getting a look at our hero.

His name is Akale son of Brennin Jacobsson and Ismira Katrinasdaughter, and Grandson of Roran Stronghammer. Akale inherited the piercing gaze of his grandfather; the same gaze that convinced most of Carvahal to Cross the spine in order to find the Varden and escape the Empire he also got his grandfather's iron will and determination, and he inherited his mother's fiery red hair and hot temper.

He lives with his mother and father on the outskirts of Therinsford where he and his brother spend most of their time hunting, fishing, or helping out around their father's workshop and forge. Akale's destiny is set; his fate is coming to reveal itself. This, is _the Legend of Akale_; or maybe more appropriately, _the Misadventures of Akale._


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello, I am just a fan of **_**the Inheritance Cycle **_**who has decided to write the story of a rider from the next generation… of riders. The story takes place 45 years after the end of **_**Inheritance**_**, The main character is the eldest grand-son of Roran Stronghammer. I had to create some of the words from the ancient language that didn't exist (IE; dawn= daundr). I know some of you might be thinking nasty things about me using a blood relative of Eragon to tell my story, but please, no flaming. AND I AM NOT A MARY SUE. Yes, I know this chapter isn't exactly exhilarating, but the chapter name IS "slow beginnings", the story will get better in time.**

Chapter1: Slow beginnings

Akale grunted as he once again brought the hammer down onto the superheated bar of iron in front of him, causing sparks to fly. He inspected his handy work, then satisfied with what he had wrought, dunked it into a barrel of brine. He placed the cooled metal wedge on the counter before retrieving several files and whetstones, then sat and began running the files across the thin edge of the wedge, sharpening what was now obviously a rough axe head. An hour later the completed axe lay upon the workbench, awaiting the customer who had ordered its construction.

Akale was just about to finish cleaning up his mess when his father walked in, "Akale, I need you to go get something for me" Brennin said casually, "are you up for a little trip?" Akale looked at his father and smiled "of course, where am I going, and what am I getting?" he asked. "You'll be going to Daret, which is about 1 weeks ride from here. I need you to pick up a shipment of tools and iron ingots for me, take the cart" his father replied in a casual business tone. "When do I leave?" Akale asked excitedly, he loved going for trips outside of the village, "tomorrow afternoon, your mother already knows you're leaving" was his father's reply. Akale nodded once then finished cleaning up before leaving the workshop, heading in the direction of his family's home on the outskirts of Therinsford.

The two-story house sat in a ring of pine trees that blocked the view of the first story, and half of the second. It was constructed of large blocks of gray granite with oak beams and pillars supporting the structure. The entire exterior of the house was trimmed with wrought iron fixtures. The smell of his mother's cooking overwhelmed Akale as he entered the abode; the inside of the house was smooth creamy yellow walls with maple paneling on the floors that was mostly covered by several red and gold rugs, there were several pieces of plush furniture as well as polished stone countertops. Akale greeted his mother warmly before asking "where's Colin?" he asked his mother warily, he had become used to being on the defensive shortly after his brother discovered his love for pranks, "out running an errand for me" Ismira replied reassuringly as she went back to tending the stove. Akale said nothing as he ran up the stairs to the second story and into his room. He dug his pack out from under his bed and started packing things like clothing, a few books, and a map that showed both the best trade routes and the quickest routes between towns. With that done, he went back down to the kitchen, grabbed half a loaf of bread and retreated to a chair by the fireplace. After he finished, he turned in for the night, slipping quickly into the pool of dreams that lay inside his head.

When he awoke in the morning, he disarmed the trip wire his brother had set up in front of his door, and poured the bag of flour that was meant for him over his brother while the little schumk slept. His mother was waiting for him by the front door when he reached the bottom of the stairs; he kissed her good bye, and then drove off to Daret in the horse-drawn cart. It would seem that Brennin had loaded the cart with supplies the previous day in anticipation of the trip. "what a wonderful day for travelling" Akale remarked, and it was a nice day; not too hot or too cold, the sun was out but there were enough clouds to keep his skin from burning very quickly, and there was a gentle breeze, carrying with it the smells of flowers growing in the meadows. He was quite cheery when he stopped for the night, and fell asleep with the feeling that tomorrow would be just as pleasant.

Thank you for reading, more coming soon.


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